In Love And War
by NorthernStar
Summary: Bashir is given a mission by Sloan when he visits his sick father on Earth.


Disclaimer: Star Trek and all characters from it are the property of Paramount and Viacom. No infringement is intended. This is strictly an amateur work for the enjoyment of the fans and no money has been made. So don't sue me. I'm too poor anyway!

Rating: PG - 13

Note: I wrote this for the fanzine "Salutatorian 3" which sadly never came about. It hung around on my hard drive until I decided to finish it. There is a sequel in the works.

****

In Love and War

By 

NorthernStar

__

"The future teaches you to be alone, the present to be afraid and cold…" If You Tolerate This Your Children Will Be Next, Manic Street Preachers.

****

Prologue: Time…

Ella Brannon stared at her reflection in the mirror. There were shadows under her eyes, dulling the aqua shades in the blue. She hadn't slept properly in six months…not since, well not since she was imprisoned here. It wasn't just the isolation or that she had lost control of her life. Having to get up, to eat, to sleep, all when someone said she had to. Or that the walls, washed a dull grey, did little to enhance the dark, dankness of her tiny cell, depressing her even more. 

It was the time, all that time. 

Wasted time.

A signal sounded from her "desk", the small computer unit that sent and received messages from the outside world at a ration of four per week. She touched the screen and a small, curt letter appeared.

'_Ella, Daddy's poorly, we're sending for the doctor. Your devoted Big Brother, S_"

Sloan. 

Ella shivered. What could he want? Hadn't he taken enough from her?

There was yelling from the corridors outside, followed by a giant crash and a screaming. Ella heard the click of her cell door as it locked automatically to contain any riot. She turned back to the cryptic message in front of her. 

'Big Brother is watching you' Sloan had always been a fan of George Orwell. And the irony was not lost on her. As for the meaning of the rest, time would tell…

****

Chapter one: …and Tides.

Julian Bashir turned over in the bed, about to go back to sleep when his sixth sense kicked in. Coming to full awareness, he sat up and slipped out of bed. His quarters were dark, and the starlight that filtered in through the windows cast everything into shadows. He wasn't there. 

"Sloan?" He looked out into the living area.

Something moved on the sofa and a shadow separated itself from the darkness. It walked towards him with a fluid motion.

"I'm most impressed, doctor. No doubt those genetically enhanced ears of yours." The agent sat himself down again and indicated that Bashir should sit.

"What do you want this time, Sloan?" The doctor stared down at him, making no attempt to move.

"To the point as always."

"I have a shift in…" he checked the chronometer, " three hours, I'd like to get some sleep."

"This is Ella Brannon. One of our most…successful agents." 

He held out a Padd. Bashir reluctantly took it from him and looked at the woman's image on the screen. She stood on a cliff, an ocean roiled behind her and the sea breeze whipped at her blonde hair. It was a candid picture, taken in the spur of the moment as the woman watched the gulls circling above. She was pretty. Whatever was she doing working for section 31? But then, wouldn't someone think that of him?

"Unfortunately, six months ago she was falsely charged with smuggling contraband and sentenced to two years in the penal colony where your father is imprisoned."

Bashir felt a flash of concern at the mention of his father. "I have little contact with him, Earth is a long way from DS9. And we don't get on." He was aware he was babbling.

Sloan smiled. "From what I understand, Doctor, you reconciled with your parents during their visit here on stardate 50624 and I know for a fact you exchange regular letters with both of them. But this has nothing to do with them. We simply want you to make contact with Agent Brannon. Section 31 is quite anxious to speak with her."

"Without the knowledge of the warders."

"Exactly, doctor."

"What do you want with her?"

"Just a debriefing, nothing you need concern yourself with."

"Somehow I doubt that."

Sloan smiled indulgently, "perhaps. " He picked up the Padd from the sofa where Julian had tossed it in disgust and stood. "It's been a pleasure as always, doctor."

"This is insane," he cried, unwilling to let the conversation end. "Even if I wanted to do this, I'm not going to Earth, let alone New Zealand!"

"Of course," he conceded easily, "but you will some time in the future, perhaps then…" He stepped towards the door. "It's been a pleasure seeing you again, doctor."

The door swished closed behind him, leaving Bashir alone. 

******

"And you didn't call security?" Ezri Dax pushed her breakfast around her plate. She'd have to tell the Chief that the replicators needed overhauling. Again. 

Bashir shook his head. "There wasn't anything they could do. He would have been gone before Odo ever showed up."

She frowned. "But you should at least tell Benjamin."

"I'm going to Ops when my shift's over but there isn't much to tell. I have no intention of doing what Sloan wants."

"For you to contact this woman?"

He nodded.

"I wonder why Sloan's interested in her?"

Bashir stared into the distance. "Me, too." He said quietly.

******

He'd received the summons to Sisko's office when he'd returned from lunch. When he got to Ops, the captain was conferring with a lieutenant at Engineering but he signalled for him to wait inside. The doors swished open and saw that Dax was already there. He smiled in confusion.

"I'm here as a counsellor, Julian." was all the explanation she could offer before the door whooshed open again and the captain walked in. _I haven't said anything about Sloan, _was written all over her face.

"Sit down, Doctor." He said, waving a hand at the chair opposite him.

Bashir sat, about to begin explaining.

"I've just received a communication from the New Zealand Penal Administration-"

A stab of terror hit his gut and all thought of Sloan disappeared. "Dad!"

"I'm afraid your father was found collapsed in his cell. He's in the hospital." His eyes flickered to Ezri; "they're asking his family members to..." _pay their last respects_..."to visit."

He knew what that meant. Had given those words out himself a thousand times. Come and say what needs to be said because you might not get another chance.

"As of now, Starfleet has put you on compassionate leave. There's a cargo ship leaving for Earth at 1600, they've been instructed to wait." He sighed, "I'm sorry, Doctor."

Bashir nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Sisko dismissed him and after he'd disappeared, Ezri stepped forward. She'd been waiting for Bashir to explain about Sloan, but he hadn't. Not that she'd expected him too; his shock had been almost palpable. It was up to her. 

"Benjamin…"

******

The few items he'd packed were slung over his shoulder in a rough bag he'd bought from a Bajoran trader several years ago. He felt the fabric pinch his skin but little else as he walked slowly to the airlock. The numbness he'd felt in Sisko's office was wearing off and a horrible sick feeling was growing in his stomach. His father…and Sloan. He'd known. He'd known even then, in his quarters last night. Known that Bashir would take the first transport home to be with his father when he…when he…

"Julian! Julian, wait!"

He turned to see Dax running towards him, dressed in one of Garak's creations. A maroon and gold shift that brought out the auburn in her spots. For a moment, he allowed himself to think of nothing but how attractive he found her. Then he noticed the bag she was carrying.

"I'm coming with you!"

"Ezri…"

"I have leave coming. Three weeks, we could spend some time together-"

"This isn't a holiday, Dax, my father-"

"I know." She gave an embarrassed smile, as she realised how that had sounded. "I mean, you look like you could use some company." She touched his arm, "Julian, you shouldn't be alone through this."

"I don't need counselling!"

"I never said you did. I'm worried about you." 

It was the truth and he knew it.

"If Sloan is involved you'll need help, and we can't count on Admiral Ross, not after last time."

His gut twisted as she spoke what he had feared. That this was Sloan's doing. "I'll be fine. I've no proof Sloan's involved in this and as I've no intention of meeting this woman, there's no need for concern."

"I'm afraid I don't agree with you, Doctor." Sisko's warm, bass tone sounded behind him and he turned to see the captain. "Dax told me about your little visit from Section 31."

Bashir shot an accusing look at Ezri and she blushed.

"Sir…"

"I want you to find out who this woman is and why Sloan is so interested in her." He held out a Padd. "I've put together as much information as I could find in Starfleet records about Ella Brannon, there isn't much."

Bashir took it, reluctantly.

"I am sorry, doctor."

People had a habit of saying that to him. Shame so few of them meant it.

He looked at Ezri and smiled slightly. "You'll get space sick."

Dax rolled her eyes. "Believe me, I am not looking forward to it."

His good nature won out and he grinned. "Guess I'll have to come up with a way to keep your mind off of it."

******

The _Clytemnestra _was a small ship and the designers had given little thought to the comfort of its passengers. Especially last minute passengers like Dax and Bashir. The single, twin-bedded room they were forced to share was a box, a very tiny box.

Ezri had selected the lower bunk which could have been because of Curzon's fall from a tree or because it just looked more comfortable. Not that he'd minded, he knew he wouldn't be sleeping anyway.

When he'd turned down Ezri's invitation to dinner, the Trill had frowned but hadn't pushed the issue. He wasn't really hungry and he had Sisko's Padd to read. The captain had been correct, there wasn't all that much on Ella Brannon. She was born on Vulcan 28 years ago, but raised on Earth from the age of three. At 21 she had graduated as a nurse and had worked in a Berlin hospital until the start of the Dominion war. When fighting broke out, she'd enlisted in Starfleet and had been posted to the frontline. After two tours, she'd been returning home when she'd been found with a supply of Harresh, a controlled substance and given a minimal sentence.

It was suddenly clear why Sloan had assigned him. Ella was a trustee, an inmate who worked in the prison in a position of responsibility. With the need for medical staff in the war, Earth's resources were stretched. She'd been helping in the prison hospital.

Where his father was.

There was no way he'd be able to avoid her. 

__

Dad…It hurt too much to think clearly. The pain, the fear…Had Sloan done this? Or was it simply a stroke of luck for Section 31 that Richard had fallen ill when he had?

One thing he did know for sure though was that the next time Sloan paid him a visit, the agent just might regret it.

****

Chapter Two: Homecomings 

There was a little more ivy growing on porch but nothing else had changed in the four? No it was closer to five years since he'd been here last. Home. Well, the closest he'd ever come to it. It was the house that had been in his father's family for ten generations and they'd lived here when Richard had worked on Earth. Which was on about, oh twelve separate occasions and for never more than seven or eight months.

"It's beautiful." Dax murmured.

He supposed it was. Built in the mid 1800's, it had survived Hitler's Blitz, the Eugenics Wars...his fathers DIY. Strong oak beams criss-crossed the façade and pretty garret windows peeked out from the ancient tiles on the roof. A mass of flowers hung over the porch, waving in the warm spring breeze. A testimony to his mothers green fingers.

"Jules!"

Ezri instantly recognised the woman she'd never met as Bashir's mother. She came running out the house, her face more care-worn than Dax remembered. And there was more grey in her hair, too.

"Mother!" Bashir bent to envelop her in his embrace; a much more natural hug than Ezri had seen him give her two years before.

Time heals. There were no truer words a counsellor could speak.

Amsha let go of her son, seeming to remember her manners and smiled at his friend.

"Mother, you remember Dax."

"Of course," she smiled, "Jules told me you have a new host. I'm sorry about Jadzia."

Ezri suddenly felt like an intruder_. Jadzia_ had a history with the Bashir's. She could still taste the delicious pasta dish they'd eaten as Richard Bashir had told her stories of "Jules" as a boy. Just before Julian's secret was revealed. 

But Ezri was a stranger. "Its good to see you again."

"How's father?"

Amsha's face fell. "I saw him this morning. He's a little better, I think."

"I've been speaking to Dr. McRae over subspace, he said father was responding well to the antibiotics."

The news that her son was involved in Richard's treatment seemed to comfort her a little. "I have a little lunch prepared for you, but we can go to the hospital first if you wish."

Bashir nodded.

"While your there, Julian, I'm going to check into the guesthouse in town."

"There's no need, you can stay here." Amsha said immediately. "It's been a long time since Julian brought a pretty girl home."

Both she and Bashir blushed. "I couldn't intrude."

"You wouldn't be. I insist." 

Ezri glanced at Bashir, unsure.

"She won't take no for an answer." He smiled.

Feeling awkward, she nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

******

He was sleeping. Bashir sat beside his father's bed and stared at the frail, weak and _old_-looking man with Richard's face. He wanted to deny it, but it was all too real.

Amsha touched his shoulder. She remembered her own shock at seeing her husband like this. No one knew quite what had happened, but the tests had spoken of a virus.

"He looks a little better." His mother murmured.

If Dr. McRae heard the hope in her voice, he made no comment. He didn't appear to possess the disdain civilian doctors often had for their military counterparts. Bashir liked him already.

"I'm afraid the treatment is keeping him unconscious, but I assure you, he's in no pain." McRae said.

Bashir met his eyes and the doctor nodded.

"If you'd like to come with me, I'll show you the test results we just got back from the lab."

Bashir heard the faint note of regret in McRae's voice and knew it wasn't good news.

"Thank you." Julian touched his mothers arm lightly as he passed. She watched them both until they disappeared then took her husbands hand.

"Everything will be alright now, Richard. Our son is here."

******

His fathers test results confirmed his father had Paana fever, a rare and devastating Rigillan viral infection which a human immune system had no defence against. But despite this terrible news he felt the knot of anxiety ease. This wasn't 31's work. Paana fever had a long incubation period; his father could have caught it years ago, probably when he was working at their embassy. 

Bashir took a deep breath. His father faced a long, drawn out illness, some survived, most did not.

And there was no antidote, even for a Rigillan.

"Did you contact the Rigillan medical council?" Bashir asked.

" I have their reply in my office. If you'd like to wait here…?"

"Of course."

Bashir glanced back at the results on the screen then turned away. It was hard to have hope when faced with such a grim diagnosis. He looked about the ward, it was low priority care and the few occupants looked almost well enough to return to the main prison.

Then he saw her, dressed in the simple light grey coverall the prisoners wore with a red trustee's band around her wrist. Her photo hadn't done her justice. She was beautiful, even without any make-up and her hair pulled severely away from her face in a tight bun.

He could just pretend he never saw her, just walk away. No one would blame him. His family came first. 

__

It's your duty… and besides, he would always work from a compassionate stand. The next person from 31 might not be so willing to hear this woman out.

Any choice he might have made was taken away when she came up to him.

"Can I help you?"

He realised he'd been staring at her. "N-no." He tried to relax. "I'm sorry, I'm waiting for Dr McRae, he's my father's physician."

She smiled, one of genuine pleasure and not the plastered-on type taught in medical schools.

"Oh, _your _Julian!" It was followed by a giggle.

He froze. Sloan.

Ella stopped laughing. "Your dad talks about you all the time. You're quite the celebrity around here."

Suspicion gave way to embarrassment.

"Still, the path guys have lost the bet. The sun doesn't shine out of your-"

"I get the idea."

She grinned and stuck out a hand. "I'm Ella. Ella Brannon."

He took her hand, feeling a pleasant tingle at the contact. And he thought he could see a wisp of pink in her cheeks but it was gone so fast he wondered if it were there at all.

He took a deep breath. _You don't have to do this. Just say hello and then walk away._

"I know." _No going back._ "I recognised you."

"Let me guess, we knew each other in a previous life?" She laughed.

"No. I…I was shown your picture."

"You really are serious, aren't you?"

He nodded. 

"Who would…? Sloan!" The amusement vanished from her face and was replaced by a look of pure hate and loathing. "Your Sloan's toady. Nice to meet you, 31. If you see Sloan give him my best wishes for his demise, won't you?"

"Wait! I…" but she was out the door in a second. He went to follow.

"Doctor?" McRae's voice sounded behind him. He turned to see the doctor holding out a Padd. "I'm afraid the Council was of little help."

Bashir took the Padd, "thank you."

When he read the first page, his heart sank and most of the hope he'd held faded, replaced by dull pain. 

******

Ezri paused before the guest room door. She glanced in the direction of Julian's room. She hadn't seen him since breakfast. Not wanting to intrude on the Bashir's anymore than she already had; she'd left early. But she'd been too concerned to enjoy the sights and she's ended up in a café drinking juice. 

She took a step into her room and stopped. Then she was outside his room before she knew it.

"Julian?"

There was a sound from inside that passed for come in.

"You should get some sleep."

He sat propped against the pillows; elbows resting on his knees that were pulled up against his chest. He looked up. "Wish I could."

Ezri heard the tiredness in his voice. She sat down beside him on the bed. "Your mother said the doctor's were optimistic." It sounded like a mindless platitude but for some reason she couldn't identify, her training and experience had left her.

"There's hope. The earlier the disease is diagnosed the better, and my father is only in the preliminary stage." He sighed; he didn't want to go there. Didn't want to admit just how hopeless he really felt. "Ella was expecting me."

The sudden change of topic surprised her a moment, then she registered what he said. "I don't understand." 

"Sloan must have warned her."

"Is that possible?"

"Not for 31. She…" _seemed nice_… "was very angry."

She watched him yawn. "Prison will do that to you."

"No…it was Sloan. When she realised he had sent me, she seemed…I don't know, bitter."

"Maybe she thought Section 31 would keep her from being found guilty."

"It was more than that. A gut feeling, I guess."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing much. The moment I mentioned Sloan she walked away." He yawned, a wave of tiredness hitting him. 

"You should take something to help you sleep."

He smiled, "actually I don't think I need it now."

She returned his smile and got up. She squeezed his shoulder in the way Jadzia used to and for a moment he could have sworn she was there.

"Good night, Julian."

But her voice was that of Ezri.

*****

Ella lay in the hard bed, unable to sleep. Sloan's message mocked her. She stared at the console and those hateful words and forced herself not to cry. Her past was catching her up, even here. She thought she was safe. Safe from Travin and useless to Sloan. Those bleeding hearts on the jury had decided she shouldn't be severely punished for her first crime. No it was her fault; she should have acquired something more illicit than Harrash. Broken a few more laws. Then they would have sent her somewhere even 31 couldn't reach.

And that man…

She'd felt a shiver down her back when she saw the intense way he was looking at her. A thrill of life she'd not felt in too long. But it hadn't been the stare of a man possessed by beauty but the hungry gaze of a hunter at its prey. He'd come again. Sloan wouldn't give up. He wanted Travin. 

And there was only one way to get him. One piece of bait he couldn't refuse.

Her….

****

Chapter Three: Everybody Hurts.

Richard's eyelids flickered at the sound of his son's voice. They opened briefly but it was enough to recognise the figure beside him. He smiled, "Jules…Julian…"

Bashir took his father's hand. "Hello, father."

"Thought you were…station." His voice was weak.

"When they told me what happened, I had to come."

Richard's fingers tightened around his son's. "Not best time for…visit."

"Dr McRae asked me to tell you what the tests found."

"Not good news. I can see…in your eyes."

"You've contracted Paana fever." Bashir sighed, "its not advanced yet so the treatment has a higher chance of success."

"But?"

"It's going to take time. Paana fever isn't cured by one hypo."

His father muttered something, but didn't upset his son by showing the despair he felt. Then he smiled, "Your mother said you brought…girlfriend."

Bashir knew his father wasn't ready to talk about the disease just yet and accepted the complete change of subject. "She's not my girlfriend. It's Dax."

"Dax! You must bring her…next time, I'd love…see Jadzia again."

"It's not Jadzia. She…she died. Her new host is Ezri…"

They continued to talk about nothing until McRae came to administer the next dose of antibiotics and Richard lapsed into a drug-induced sleep. Julian watched his father for a long time, wishing they could have talked, really talked. He wanted to tell him he loved him. Wanted to hear the words back.

But his dad never said those things.

Sighing, he stood up and thought about going home. 

__

Ella…Her name rang in his head and he suddenly felt very tired. But he went looking for her just the same.

He found her in the recreational area, reading a prison issue Padd. The sunlight made her hair look as if it were glowing.

"Hello again."

She glanced up, her eyes growing cold when she saw who it was.

"I think we need to talk."

Ella stood up and prepared to leave. He caught her arm. "Please."

"Your 31!"

"NO! I…Sloan sent me here, yes but I'm not working for him."

Something bitter twisted her mouth. "Yeah," she said quietly, "that's what I used to tell myself too."

"What does he want from you?"

"Just get the hell away from me!"

She tried to leave again but he stepped in front of her. "Talk to me. I don't trust Sloan or 31. I wish I'd never heard of either. And there's nothing I'd like more than to just walk away and concentrate on getting my father well and helping my mother deal with all of this…but I can't." 

She sighed and all the fight seemed to drain away. "Travin. He wants a man named Travin. He thinks I know where he is."

******

He'd always despised her regularity when they'd been lovers but now he relied on it. Ella came to sit under the same tree on the outskirts of the prison at the same time each day to read. And he would always come to watch her. Stalking the prey before the kill…

Dale Travin stared through the macro-viewer at the new figure that had interrupted their moment alone together. A tall, slim man with cappuccino skin. His clothes, black trousers and blue shirt said civilian but his boots were Starfleet. His gut twisted, it was possible he was just an old colleague, of course, but years of being in 31 helped him recognise his own kind. 

His face was unfamiliar, but that meant nothing. 31 had no headquarters as such, no organised command structure. Just contacts, immediate commanders and subordinates. You could live next door to the head honcho and never know it.

Odd, he expected Sloan to be the sort of man who did his own dirty work.

__

Sloan…a coward?

No, there was another reason he sent this man.

******

"Who's Travin?"

"Dale Travin. He was my fiancé. He used to work for 31as well."

Bashir felt something inside him relax although he wasn't sure why. "What does Sloan want with him?"

"Ask Sloan. He'll know we talked." She said with certainty, "and he'll make contact with you…probably tonight." Her voice was soft and she smiled, "how is your dad?"

Despite the warmth in her tone, he heard the unspoken warning that he shouldn't push for more information. But she needn't have worried, the day had been too long and he was too tired to argue further. He watched her sit back down on the grass and accepted her hand-wave offer to join her. Oddly, he found he really did want to talk about his father.

"He's on a new drug, Dr McRae is fairly optimistic."

Her training made her hear the note of dismay where someone else might not. "But you're not?"

"I've dealt with this disease on the station. Sometimes everything looks like they've beaten it and the next day they're on full life support." 

"And this person you treated?"

"He died. His body just couldn't take anymore." 

"I'm sorry."

"There are some people who would say he deserved it. He was a Cardassian war criminal." 

She touched his shoulder, a light, gentle touch that comforted more than a thousand words. He wondered what things she had done as part of 31. Couldn't imagine her using the same tactics as Sloan. He met her eyes the barest of moments and he opened his mouth to ask her but the sound of the role call siren interrupted him. She stood immediately. "I have to go."

He watched her walk away and was surprised to see her turn around. "Don't trust Sloan," she warned him, "not when it comes to Travin."

******

He sat bolt upright in bed, awoken by slight movement. Sloan was standing at the open window looking out at the night sky. Bashir hadn't meant to fall asleep, he knew Ella was right, Sloan would come, but he'd missed so much sleep over the last several days that he must of nodded off.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" His hand swept across the Heavens; "The stars are more majestic when seen from Earth. If you stand on any other planet in the Federation and the stars are just stars, but on Earth…It's a visual reminder why we do what we do. We must protect this for future generations, don't you agree, doctor?"

"What do you want with Travin?" Bashir demanded.

Sloan turned to face him. "You made contact with agent Brannon?"

"Why so you want him so badly, Sloan? There must be a thousand more important things for 31 to do. What's so special about him?"

"He is a security risk, doctor. That's all you need to know. I trust you discovered his whereabouts?"

"Why do you need me or that girl to tell you. 31 are supposed to be this grand organisation set up to protect the 'greater glory of the Federation' and you can't find one man? You must be slipping, Sloan." 

"With the war our resources are-"

"It's personal, isn't it?"

Sloan actually flinched and Bashir knew he'd hit paydirt. 

To Sloan's credit he covered it well, "nothing and everything is personal in 31." He stepped forward, "you will tell me where Travin is." 

"I don't know."

Bashir barely had time to gasp before the phaser beam hit him in the chest. 

******

The wards were quiet and Ella's footsteps rang hollow in the corridors. She shivered in fear, a feeling that was all too familiar of late. As a child the dark had held no fears, no monsters lurked under her bed. She'd been fearless. And she'd been fearless the day her professor and friend had exploited Ella's connections to commit treason. Or at least, that's what Sloan had said the day they took her in for "questioning." She doubted the truth of that now. Maybe the goal had been her all along. 

She remembered that day as if it were yesterday. Her first meeting with Sloan…and Travin. 

They'd put her through that weird simulation before declaring her their equal. Despite her disdain for 31, she'd said yes because of Travin. She'd revelled in the look that even then simmered on Travin's face. Deep and uncontrollable desire.

A delight which turned to disgust.

And fear.

Since then, fear had possessed her.

Someone touched her shoulder and she turned, expecting to see McRae.

"Hello, my love."

It was Travin.

******

Bashir groaned he awoke, his muscles aching from the stun beam. He opened his eyes and swallowed back the bile that rose to the back of his throat at the movement. Sloan smiled benevolently down at him, like a father gazing at his newborn child. The sight made him feel sicker than ever. 

"I am sorry for this, doctor. I have the greatest respect for you, but I am pushed for time."

He tried to move his hands but they were firmly tied and for the second time in as many months he felt the sting of Romulan mind probes on his forehead.

"The probes are useless on me."

"The ones the Romulans use, yes, these however are…special." He smiled, "the failure of your interrogation on Romulas led to these being created. I am assured they will work but I'm afraid they're even more…discomforting. I suggest you tell me where Travin is."

"I don't know, Sloan! Why go through with this? I don't believe you could possible think Ella told me where to find Travin!"

Sloan smiled, activating the devices. "Intuitive as ever, doctor. Your right, of course."

Bashir went rigid as the probes began their work. 

"But time is not on our side. We need to finish this."

******

"How-how did you get in here?"

Travin smiled, "I still have my 31 remote transporter," he touched the small shiny black button on his collar. "No trace signal, I never came and I never left. I'm sure you remember its effectiveness."

"I'm due for lock-in, they'll know I'm missing." She said quickly, hating the fear she heard in her own voice.

"I've been watching you. Lock-in isn't for half an hour. We have time." He touched her face, "I only want to talk, my love, it's been a long time."

The thought of his watching her sent a shiver of disgust through her. She'd suspected, but hearing him confirm it…"It wasn't my fault. Sloan…"

"I forgive you, Ella." He brushed back his long hair, "you see, I'm healed. Sloan should have know I was stronger than that."

"I begged him not to remove it. He wouldn't listen!"

Travin stroked the scar where his neural implant had been. "Of course you did."

"It's the truth!" She cried.

His eyes flashed, "who was the 31 with you today?"

"I…I don't-"

__

"Who was he?!"

"S-Sloan sent him."

"To find Jennifer?"

She nodded.

"And what did you tell him?" There was an edge to his voice.

"What could I tell him?" She challenged and he smiled at her spirit.

He touched her face again and she jumped. "You never used to fear me, Ella."

"Neither did Jennifer!"

"My sister was a traitor. Sloan knew that. She had to be contained for the good of the people."

"He just wants her back! Tell him where she is!"

Travin grabbed her by the hair. 

"She was a traitor!" 

"She didn't understand!" Ella was sobbing now, "she just needed to do what was right! Sloan understood that!"

"Yes, I'm well aware she whored herself to him."

"That's a lie! Dale, please, if you love me, tell me where Jennifer is."

"Why do you want to help Sloan? I thought you wanted to escape him. That's why you're here isn't it, hiding from 31 like a frightened child."

"I want to help Jennifer!" Ella was shaking now. He was going to kill her. If she screamed would anyone hear her in time? How much would it hurt? "Did…have you…? Please, please Dale, don't hurt her. Let her go. It's over!"

He grabbed her neck suddenly and forced her head sideways. She cried out in pain and fear. "It will never be over! Those bastards in the Gamma Quad deserve what they're getting! Our people are dying…it's the only way to end the war. Jennifer didn't understand that."

"She just didn't want genocide, Dale, she was doing what she thought was right."

"Right? Betraying 31…" he smiled, "just as you have, my darling…"

"No…I…just want out, Dale…I can't do this anymore."

"You won't be doing much anymore…. my darling."

She closed her eyes, death had come. This was the end. 

Footsteps sounded behind her.

"Ella?"

She opened her eyes. Travin was gone. Dr McRae looked down on her with stern eyes. 

"Lock-in is due. I need you on the staff, you can't afford solitary."

"Yes sir."

Feeling tears on her cheeks she turned and hurried to her cell.

******

Ezri sat up in bed, listening. Sounds of a struggle were coming from the bedroom opposite, from Julian's room. She jumped out of bed and ran to the doctor's door. She rushed into the room and saw Julian trashing in his bed, caught in some nightmare he couldn't escape from. She touched his shoulder, amazed at the heat coming off him.

"Julian! Julian, wake up!"

He continued to buck and writhe in the bed and this time she shook him harder. "JULIAN!"

His eyes snapped wide in terror and remembered pain and he pulled her to him. She let out a gasp of surprise then hugged him lightly back. They stayed like that for long time before Julian broke the hold. His face creased with caution and embarrassment. Waking up in the arms of a woman was one thing, waking in the arms of an old friend was another.

"You were having a nightmare."

"I-I don't remember." He looked at her, "What…um, why..?" He blushed and she hid a smile.

"I woke you up, you kind of grabbed me."

"Oh."

"What were you dreaming about? It looked intense."

He frowned. He remembered pain and something about Ella…and Sloan. Had Sloan been here? And Ella, suddenly the most important thing was to see Ella.

"I have to go."

"Go? Go where? Julian it's the middle of the night!"

"Here, yes but not in New Zealand."

******

Ella sat in her cell, her body shaking. A message from Sloan, that doctor from 31 and now Travin. He was going to kill her now. Before he had simply been toying with her, enjoying her fear, amused at her feeble attempts to stay hidden from him, to stay alive. But now the dance was over; Sloan's games with Doctor Bashir had snapped the thin tread of Travin's patience…Now she was as good as dead. 

__

Jennifer, why did you confide in me?

The project had almost failed because of Jennifer's interference. But Travin had made her pay for it. 

She heard the cell click open and a warder entered. Ella just glared at the woman in front of her. It was Keller. A woman who believed capital punishment should be brought back.

"You have a visitor."

Ella stood up and allowed herself to be herded to the interview room. Ella had no family to visit her and few friends outside of 31 so the room wasn't familiar to her.

The man sitting at the table was. It was Bashir. 

"Julian!" She was surprised by the relief at seeing him.

Keller closed the door, leaving the two alone.

"Travin was here!"

"What?"

"He came into the prison to talk to me!"

"How?"

"He used 31's transporters." She couldn't sit down, couldn't stop hugging her arms to her chest. "Why wasn't I put somewhere safer!" She whispered to herself. "Sloan knew he'd come, didn't he? Knew if he saw you he'd come." She rounded on him, fury in her eyes. "Is that why he sent you? To smoke Travin out?"

"I don't know, maybe. Only that a man I don't trust wanted us to meet." He touched her arm, "are you alright?"

At the words, she pressed a hand to her mouth and began sobbing. He immediately took her into his embrace, shh-ing her gently. After a moment, she brought her tears under control and pulled away.

"He's going to kill me."

The finality in her voice left him in no doubt. 

"Get me out of this place, Julian." She whispered, "he'll come for me again. It was only McRae's interruption that stopped him."

"But…"

"He'll kill me."

"Why? I don't understand."

"Get me out of here and somewhere where Travin can't find me and I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything!"

"Ella…"

"Please Julian, you have authorisation to go almost anywhere in the prison, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Then when lock-in is over take me to the transporter room, the one they use for prisoner transfers. You can stun the guard and we can leave."

"They'd never allow us near the place."

"You can say there's a sick prisoner coming in and McRae asked you to deal with it. You're Starfleet. One big happy family, right? They'll trust you."

"NO! Ella, I'm not going to do this. There has to be another way."

"He'll kill me!"

"We can go to the commandant. He can post guards." Bashir replied, "it's the only way."

"Travin will kill them too. Or maybe they'll get lucky and nail Travin. He's the only one who knows where Jennifer is. If he dies, so will she."

He stared at her, unable to escape the logic of that.

"Jennifer?" He asked, totally confused, "who is Jennifer?"

"Someone worth saving." Ella met his eyes, "get me out of here and I'll tell you everything."

It was like dangling hot meal at a starving man. He lived for puzzles, secrets. She was playing her hand well.

And he was beginning to realise his feelings for her went beyond friendship. It wasn't love, at least, not yet, but he cared about her. And her fear of Travin was real and it affected him deeply. He wanted to save her. Take her to someplace safe.

Somewhere nothing and no one would ever hurt her.

He met her eyes, saw the fear and desperation in them and he sighed.

"When is lock-in over?"

Ella smiled in relief and kissed his cheek. "Thank you!"

******

Andrew Layton glanced up from the PADD as a tall man and a prison trustee approached. Despite his boredom, he hated the interruption. The latest Finn Cooper novel he was reading had just started getting good. Good as in the hero had just started giving the heroine one. 

"There's…um, there's a ill prisoner being transferred from London. Dr McRae asked me to handle it."

Layton frowned, "Ain't no transfers today. Can I see your ID?"

The man took out a visitor's ID. Layton looked at the name. Bashir, Julian S. Doctor, Lieutenant Starfleet. The commandant's signature gave him almost full access to the prison facilities. 

"I er, I have authorisation from Dr McRae to assist in hospital duties." The man pointed out just as Layton read that bit of information in the small print. 

"Checks out, but doctor Mac got it wrong, there aren't any transfers today."

"This was an emergency." The trustee said quickly. 

Bashir nodded, "that's right. And while we're talking we're wasting time the prisoner doesn't have. He, um, he's on remand. It would be very bad if he died in custody. There'd be an investigation."

"Heads would roll." The trustee chirped, "namely yours."

Layton glared at the woman but she purposely wasn't looking in his direction. He frowned, knowing she was right. 

He sighed and keyed in the code to unlock the transporter. The little pad hummed with sudden life and the computer reported it was working. 

__

Hiss.

Layton jumped at the noise and the touch of cold metal against his neck. The doctor had just injected him with something,

"Nighty-night!" Grinned the trustee.

That was the last thing he heard before everything went dark. 

******

"That was fun!"

Bashir looked up from the transporter at Ella's voice. She was almost buzzing with energy. 31 had chosen well. She took this kind of thing in her stride. She'd told him what the guard would say, what he should say. She'd planned it carefully.

"Still not out of here."

"What's taking so long?"

"It's set for prison-to-prison transporting, it needs a code for all outside transports."

"But you can crack it?"

"Eventually, yes, but time…"

The computer chimed and he smiled. Thank God and his parents for his enhanced brain. He tapped in their destination and set a delay on the transport and then instructed the computer to scramble the memory. O'Brien would have been proud. No one would be able to track them. "Get on!"

"Where are we going?"

He joined her on the transporter. "You'll see."

Then the world turned to sparkles and they were carried away.

******

They materialised in bright sunlight amid a field of poppies that covered the hills around them, as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a copse of tall oaks touched the sky. 

Ella closed her eyes to the gentle breeze that blew the scent of the flowers around them and she spread her arms wide, stretching out with each finger to embrace the total sense of freedom she felt. 

It was beautiful. It was wild. And she was here.

She flung herself back into the poppies, landing with a faint whump on the ground. She laughed and tried to make snow angels in the flowers. "I'm free! I'm free! I'm free! I'm free! I'm free!"

Bashir smiled down at her, feeling her joy. 

She reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling him down beside her. He squealed in surprise as he thumped down on his buttocks.

"This is _so_ beautiful!" She said, "where are we? What is this place?"

Bashir glanced up at the sky. "Is it important?"

"Yeah."

His happiness faded. "This was my home once. When I was nine."

"It's a field."

"There's a house behind those trees over there. That's where I used to live. I would play here as a child."

"Why come here? Not that I disapprove."

"It's pretty isolated. And we only stayed here for several months so no-one is likely to guess I'd come here."

"I'm sorry. I forget that to bring me here you've had to give up everything."

Bashir lay back on the poppies, "maybe…"

"You've saved my life, Julian."

"Have I? Will Sloan give up that easily? Will Travin?"

"Probably not. But at least I stand a fighting chance now. Can't fight in prison."

"You'll have lost parole."

"Prison's not so bad. …once you get used to it." She sat up and looked down at him, "Thank you."

"C'mon," he said, standing up, "we'd best get in the house."

******

The villagers they'd passed in the walk to the house had smiled and bid them good evening. Ella had taken his hand when they'd come across the first villager. For a moment Bashir had thought it was sudden nerves from being out of the prison, but she shook her head and told him they'd look less conspicuous if everyone assumed they were lovers on a stroll.

Bashir liked the feel of her hand in his. Her skin was warm and soft and she had a funny way of twinning their fingers. She seemed so different out of the penal walls, more confident. He wanted to ask her about Travin and Jennifer, remind her of their bargain but he didn't want to spoil the happiness she felt by reminding her of the danger she still faced. 

The little house Bashir led Ella to was well over 800 years old, built with wood and stone bricks by the people who lived and loved and bore children there. The windows shutters were closed and the garden was over grown. No one had been there for years.

"You lived here?"

He nodded, "my father worked in the village for a while so we stayed here."

"It's nice."

He led her down the path to the front door, his mind clouded with memories. He knelt down by the wishing well and slipped his hand into a little gap at the base. He frowned as he wriggled his fingers around muttering something about being much bigger now. Eventually he pulled something out.

It was a key.

Bashir opened the door and Ella went in, crinkling her nose at the musty smell.

"Needs a bit of an airing." She said as she began opening the windows. The last one was stuck fast and Bashir came up behind her and added his weight to the battle. The shutter gave suddenly and they both lost their footing and tumbled down.

******

Ezri squeezed Amsha's shoulder as the prison inspector stared down at them. She and Julian's mother sat in the front room of the Bashir's house, side by side on the sofa. Ezri knew how worried the woman was for her husband and now for her son. She was concerned herself. What had happened to make Julian break the law?

What if he'd been forced to do so against his will? Where was he? 

The Dax part of her that had known him for so long had many questions, but the part of her that was still new, still integrating into the whole, had realised something the moment the doctor had paused infinitesimally before speaking Ella's name. Giving unconscious significance to the word. Something Ezri _Tegan _was still young enough to recognise without guile.

Love was a powerful motivator. 

Especially for someone like Julian.

The inspector stared at her, trying to intimidate what appeared to be a young girl. Dax had learned what an advantage people's perceptions could sometimes be.

"Perhaps I could talk with Mrs Bashir alone?" He said.

Ezri opened her mouth to refuse but Amsha squeezed her arm. "Go, I'll be alright."

Dax frowned, "are you sure?"

Julian's mother nodded and Ezri stood up, glaring at the inspector. He stared back unaffected.

Dax left the room and climbed the stairs intending to go to her room, instead she found herself out side of Julian's. Feeling uncomfortably like an intruder she opened the door and went in. Everything was as it had been last night when she had woken him from his nightmare.

Except….

There was a PADD on his bed. 

Ezri picked it up. There was nothing on it but a set of co-ordinates. Transporter co-ordinates.

But….

The inspector had checked the house, hadn't he? In the rather dense assumption Bashir had taken Ella to his home. The very first place the authorities would go.

This couldn't have been there then.

Dax felt her stomach knot. 

__

Sloan….

*******

The sky had darkened with approaching dusk. Ella stood on the veranda wrapped in a shawl staring up at the stars starting to emerge. This was her first taste of freedom in too long and she wasn't about to waste it sleeping. She knew now this might be the only taste she got. Travin was coming. She knew what Sloan had done now, knew they'd played right into his hands. Her life, and maybe Julian's, was forfeit now.

She could feel it. It wasn't paranoia, it was real.

"Penny for them?"

She turned and saw Julian in the doorway. "Not worth that much."

"They are to me."

"Come for your half of the bargain?" She said bitterly.

He sighed, "only if you want to tell me."

Ella shivered, "one thing I learned from Sloan, people don't always have a choice."

"Well I'm giving you a choice."

"Are you?"

"Yes!"

Ella looked away, "tell me what it was like living here."

Bashir faltered, "um, it was…it was nice."

"Why come back here?"

The question took him by surprise, mostly because he found he didn't know the answer. It was a good hiding place, away from the crowded cites and towns, yes, but that wasn't always a good thing. They stuck out here, in a mass of people it was easy to blend in.

"I-I guess it's because I felt safe here….as a child."

She seemed to accept this and went back to gazing at the stars, "Travin will be here soon."

"Ella, he doesn't know where we are, he won't find us."

"He will come for me."

"He doesn't know where you are."

"Think about it, Julian. Why did you bring me here? Do you know?"

"Ella…"

"Did Sloan make contact? Have you seen him again?" She demanded, "it's important, have you?"

Bashir frowned, thoughts of last night in his mind. The dream….he couldn't remember. Could it have been real?

"Sloan knew Travin would be jealous when he saw you, that he'd come to me and I'd panic. And he knew you were the kind of person who'd help me escape! All he had to do was plant the suggestion in your mind to take me here!"

She turned away, full of anger. "I've been so stupid." She led him off the veranda, slamming the shutters closed to vent the rage she felt. "He planned this, Julian. Sloan planned it!"

"I shouldn't worry about, my dear, you have been out of the Game for a while."

They both turned to the speaker. 

And there in the room was Sloan.

******

Dax wanted to head straight for the transmat centre in town but she knew she might be followed. It was logical to assume that if Julian were to contact anyone it would be her or his mother. She knew very little about Sloan and 31; what she did was from Jadzia's memories. Sloan was playing a game, that much was obvious, with Julian as a pawn. 

And Ella….?

Another pawn or a willing conspirator?

Dax felt a tingle down her back. A couple of hundred years worth of experience sensing something.

She looked around. It was getting late and there were only a few people about, mainly couples strolling through the streets. 

Nothing.

******

Travin watched the Trill from the rooftop. Her body language was tight and nervous, marking her out. He'd followed that 31 man home the day he'd met with Ella in the park grounds, amazed that for someone Sloan had employed; he was so incautious as to not notice he was being followed. Not that he would've spotted Travin but he would have at least liked the challenge.

The Trill was proving a challenge. She knew the authorities might be watching, that much was certain from her caution. Did she sense him too?

Sloan was baiting the trap with this lovely piece of Trill meat.

Travin smiled. He would spring the trap….

But on his own terms.

******

"As detestable as ever, I see." Ella spat.

"Miss Brannon. I believe I have missed your charm. It's been a long time."

"Don't know about you, but I could've stood it being longer."

Bashir put a hand on her arm. "How…how did you find us?"

"I used the mental suggestion technique as Ella said but due to your genetic enhancements I was not sure it would work. To be on the safe side, I put a tracer in your ear. Crude, but effective."

"You _were _in my room last night. It wasn't a dream."

"That is correct, doctor."

Ella was shaking with rage, "and I suppose Travin is on his way?"

Sloan narrowed his eyes, "of course."

"But…Travin doesn't know we're here." Julian pointed out.

"He probably followed us, watched us." She shuddered. "I told you, Travin wants me dead." She looked him in the eyes. "Bait, Julian, Sloan is using me as bait."

******

Ezri materialised in front of the old house. She shivered in the cold and darkness that hung around her like a cloak. She looked about her at the lonely countryside. So this was the haven Julian had found. 

There was a faint whine buzz behind her. 

Another transporter.

She turned to see who it was but even before she'd moved an inch, she felt a sharp pain and a black nothingness overcame her.

******

"Why?" Bashir asked, "why does he want to kill you now?"

"Why not before, you mean?" Ella reached up and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "Because of you."

"Me?"

"Travin was always a jealous man." Bashir looked at Sloan as Ella spoke. "He knew if Travin saw you with me he'd come out of hiding."

Then she turned to Sloan and narrowed her eyes in disgust, "and you thought maybe he'd be so distracted he'd walk in here without thinking."

"Distracted?" Bashir asked and then it dawned as he felt the tug on his heart as he looked into Ella's lovely face. He turned to Sloan. "You knew it would happen, didn't you?"

"There was a 96% probability." The agent replied, completely without question. "All those spy programs you run, they all have a woman in need of rescue. Your romanticism, your very nature, it was needed here today, doctor."

"You used me. You used both of us."

"It was nessicary. Travin is a dangerous man, he needs to be stopped."

"So you staged all this?" Anger rose in Bashir voice. "Just to capture him?"

"For Jennifer?" Ella asked and Sloan nodded once, his eyes hard.

Bashir looked from one to the other. "Who is Jennifer?"

"A traitor…" Travin stepped into the room. "A dying traitor…just like you." 

He raised his hand and the metal of the phaser in it glinted dully in the low light.

******

Bashir jumped for Travin, letting his genetically enhanced reflexes take over. Travin gasped at the doctor's speed, loosing his balance in the brief struggle for the phaser. He landed heavily and Sloan had him pinned in a second.

Bashir's finger's searched the phaser for the control to switch it to stun. 

"No, Julian!" Ella cried.

To his horror he realised this was no ordinary Starfleet issue phaser. It was a customised 31 version. It bleeped in warning at being tampered with and Ella screamed. "Throw it! For God's sake, get down!"

With leaden fingers, Bashir tossed the phaser into the next room and threw himself on Ella just as the phaser exploded in a brief flash of light.

They sat up and looked across at Travin. Sloan had grabbed his head and was forcing it backward by his long hair. The veins in Travin's neck stood out. Sloan's breath came in gasps, "for Jennifer," he whispered.

"I just wish I could see your face when you find what's left of her!" Travin snarled at Sloan.

Bashir watched in horror as Sloan pushed a long needle into the base of Travin's skull. Travin screamed, whether in pain or fury Bashir didn't know.

And then silence.

Then a quiet whirring from Sloan's tri-corder as data from Travin's brain downloaded. Bashir stared; half-fascinated at this alien procedure and half disgusted by it.

Ella simply watched with the detachment of long association as her former lover's mind was raped in front of her. Travin's eyes were half-open and his jaw was slack. A trickle of drool oozed from the corner of his mouth.

The tri-corder bleeped, signalling it had finished. It had the information it was looking for. Travin's body slumped back, barely conscious.

Sloan checked the screen and then a look of pure relief and something like contentment washed across his face. He whispered something to himself, eyes closed.

Then he opened them. "Thank you both for your help." He said as if nothing had happened. "It's been a pleasure as always, doctor, Miss Brannon." He went to touch his collar.

"Wait! Jennifer, is she…?" Ella cried, "did you get her location?"

Sloan's body was wreathed in lights.

"Wait, you bastard, I just want-""

She tried to grab him but he was gone. Bashir touched her shoulder. She turned to look at him. "I just wanted to know if she was OK."

He gently folded her into his arms and then froze as a voice filled the silence. "Well isn't that sweet!"

They whipped round in shock to see Travin stand up shakily, pulling the needle from his neck without even a wince of pain. He smiled. "You two should get a room."

******

The only thing she was aware of was the cold of the ground under her. Ezri slowly opened her eyes and winced at the ache that began in the back of her head and shot straight to her forehead at the tiny movement. She tensed her muscles to rise; knowing she had to get up, but darkness enveloped her mind again.

******

"Dale Travin, I presume?"

Bashir let one arm slip from Ella while the other tightened around her. He met Travin's gaze; the man's eyes were cloudy from the mind probe but just as dangerous as before.

The man nodded. "You have me at a disadvantage."

"Julian Bashir."

"Then I am sorry, Julian." Travin murmured, "that Ella chose to involve you in this."

Ella shrugged off the arm around her shoulders and stepped in front of Julian. "No, Travin. He knows nothing. Let him go."

"You expect me to believe he just helped you. That neither you nor that bastard Sloan told him what this was about?"

"It's the truth!"

"You must think I'm stupid, Ella."

"He doesn't know anything! Please, Dale…"

"The ease at which you lie, my love." Travin reached into his jacket and took out a small glass vial. "I shall enjoy this, I think."

He tossed it down onto the carpet.

And all hell broke loose…

******

Flames erupted around them, churning out thick black smoke. Whatever had been in the vial was highly flammable and the fire spread with alarming speed, creating a wall of flame between them and Travin. Ella grabbed Bashir and pulled him out of the room, heading for the door. Another small vial sailed through the air and smashed in front of them. More flames shot up, blocking their way. Bashir took her hand and ran to the stairs, forcing her up them ahead of him.

Ella collapsed at the top, her lungs hitching badly from smoke inhalation. She felt as though an elephant was sitting on her chest. Bashir pulled her to her feet, half dragging her into a bedroom, his own breathing laboured and heavy. He could hear Travin climbing the stairs, knew it would be moments before he entered the room as well.

And then he'd kill them.

Bashir dropped Ella onto the bed and turned to barricade the door. As he closed it a hand shot out, surprisingly strong and steady, holding it open.

Another vial smashed on the carpet behind him.

And the maw of Hell enveloped him…

******

Ezri sat up, her body cold and stiff. How long had she been unconscious? She had to reach the house. Julian was in there, unaware of the danger. 

She stood up and began towards the house. She noticed all the windows were lit with a strange orange glow. 

Then the glass in the downstairs living room window cracked, bursting open and a backdraft of flame shot out.

****

Chapter Four: Burning

"JULIAN!"

Ezri heard her own cry of horror as the house erupted into flames, felt the jolt of her feet against the ground as she ran towards the house. More windows shattered as she reached the door, raining glass shards all around her. Ezri screamed as the fragments bit into her face and she felt warm blood trickle into her eyes but she ran into the blaze without a thought. The heat inside was intense, she could feel the exposed skin on her hands begin to blister and itch. She gave into the impulse to scratch and her nails drew blood. 

The acrid smoke burnt her lungs, choking her. It was so hard to breathe, her chest heaved with the effort. "Julian!" 

She wiped the blood from her eyes, trying desperately to see through the haze of smoke and the bright glare of the flames. "Julian!" Ezri let out a sob, "please answer me! Julian!"

She was coughing, trying to draw breath. Her vision swam.

Voices came from behind her, arms circled her, pulling her out. She fought against them, begging them to let her go. "Please, I have to find Julian."

And then she was outside, the sudden burst of clear air making her head whirl. Still the voices spoke, gently, comfortingly but they didn't understand. Why didn't they let her go and find Julian?

She dimly became aware of plastic around her mouth and nose and found she could breathe more easily. Awareness followed and the pain, both from the burns and cuts and the deep well of sorrow in her heart. 

She struggled from the woman holding the oxygen to her face, taking her by surprise at the Trill's strength. She stumbled towards the house again. "Julian!"

The female medic yelled to a colleague who grabbed Dax as she passed him, knocking her onto the ground. 

"He's not dead, he's not dead!" She insisted, pushing his hands away.

Ezri climbed to her feet again and stumbled a few steps before sinking to her knees.

"Julian…" she whispered.

******

Bashir watched in horror as the flames devoured everything, billowing out thick black smoke. His shock gave Travin the opening he needed and he had the doctor by the throat in a second. Julian felt his fingers dig into his neck and tried to ignore the rise of panic. He had to be calm, but his vision was tunnelling and the roar of the flames was becoming distant.

And then the pressure stopped. Bashir gasped down great gulps of air and collapsed into a coughing fit as the smoke scorched his lungs. He looked up amid his choking to see Ella had pulled Travin away from him. She had taken Travin by surprise but he recovered quickly, raining blows down on her, but she refused to release him. Julian watched in horror as Travin's free hand pulled a knife from his hip. He ground it into Ella's ribs, piercing her heart. 

Ella screamed as her life was stolen from her and she fell back, her death grip pulling Travin with her. They hit the floor as one and the resounding crash drowned out Julian's cry of horror. The weakened floor collapsed downward swallowing Ella and Travin, sending them into the centre of the flames below.

__

"ELLA!" Julian tried to stand, tried to get to the edge but he couldn't breathe. Couldn't get enough oxygen to make his limbs move. "No, Ella!"

He coughed hard, his chest felt as full of flames as the house. His vision narrowed to a pinprick and his head spun. 

__

At least Jadzia will be waiting for me on the other side.

As he lost consciousness he remembered. 

Jadzia was in Sto'vo'cor.

******

Someone had given her a sedative. The medic, who introduced herself as Marie, had wrapped a blanket around Ezri and was gently talking to her. If her friend was in the house he'd be found, she was saying. The emergency fire suppression system had finally extinguished the inferno. 

"Marie! Get over here with that oxygen!"

The medic squeezed her shoulder briefly. Ezri watched her as ran to her colleagues with the oxygen. Dazed, Ezri struggled to her feet and followed, her legs moving as if they were made of jelly.

She walked towards the knot of people. A pair of legs peeked out from the circle. 

Starfleet boots.

Ezri burst into a run, pushing the medical staff aside.

"Julian!" She flung her arms around him as if she would never let him go. She could hear the regular thumping of his heart, smell the acrid scent of smoke from his clothes mingled with his sweat. Nothing else existed. She felt his hand against her cheek. She pulled back and their eyes locked.

"Ella…" he murmured. "I love you."

Time restarted abruptly and hands pulled her backwards. A medic began tending Bashir as another took her aside and ran a tri-corder over her cuts.

"Don't worry about your friend. He'll be fine." Marie said with a smile. "It's Ella, isn't it?"

Dax shook her head. "No…no, it's not."

******

Bashir sat in the prison commandant's office, numb to everything around him. Ella was gone. Did she know how much he'd come to love her? Would it make any difference if he knew the answer?

He looked up as two men entered. One was the prison commandant, Sing or something like that. He dimly remembered being greeted by him when he'd first come to the prison. He didn't recognise the man with him, but Bashir knew who he was. He'd know that hateful uniform anywhere. This man was 31.

"I take it Sloan found her then?" He said.

The man looked at Bashir, his blue eyes cold. "Yes."

In that one word, Bashir knew he disapproved of Sloan's quest to find Jennifer.

"And Travin?"

"He's dead. I believe you saw him die."

"I saw Sloan die once."

Sing, whose face showed just how out of his depth he felt, cleared his throat. "Doctor, I…while I deplore your behaviour in helping a trusted inmate escape," the commandants voice became stronger the more he spoke, "I have been informed no action will be taken against you."

Sing didn't sound happy with that and Bashir didn't blame him. He looked even less happy when he realised the doctor wasn't surprised.

"However, I do not feel I can grant you access to the grounds again."

"But my father…"

"You will be contacted in the event of his death. And of course you are free to appeal the prison board for visits in the future. However, you would be under full guard at all times."

"But-"

"I think your getting off easy, doctor! I do not appreciate have the disapline of this prison undermined by you or anyone else." The last few words were aimed at the agent beside him. 

The man simply smiled. "You may go, doctor, the commandant and I have some other business to conduct."

Bashir stood up.

"Don't expect Sloan to be in your dept." The agent said quietly, "he paid it today, here, in this room."

Bashir didn't think it was worth pointing out that he wouldn't be in the room if it weren't for Sloan. But he recognised advice when he heard it. 

He turned at the door and locked eyes with the agent. "What's your name?"

"Pierce. Ray Pierce."

Bashir nodded once. He'd remember.

******

The funeral was a simple, intimate goodbye by family and friends whose faces Bashir would never know. A few songs, a poem, some words by friends. No flowers, no wake, no mourning black, her will had stated. _And no tears…_

Ezri had offered to accompany him, but he'd declined. She had been surprisingly comforting these past few days. Somehow the mixed up jumble of other people in her head had melded into the background and Ezri Tegan had taken hold. No, Ezri Dax. She was whole again.

And he liked who had emerged. If there hadn't been so much grief in his heart, he might have pondered what that meant.

Sloan was waiting for him at the cemetery gates. The dwindling light made the black clad figure harder to identify but he knew who it was.

"My condolences." His hard accent carried no hint of sympathy but then Bashir hadn't expected any.

He had him by the scruff of the neck in seconds_. "Where's Travin?"_

"Ex-agent Travin is dead."

"Just like you died on Romulas?" His grip tightened. "Where is he?"

"He's dead, doctor. You're to be commended, you neutralised a dangerous security risk."

"ELLA did your dirty work!" At the mention of her name, he felt tears form. He let go of Sloan, suddenly remembering there was an innocent in all this. "And Jennifer?"

Sloan stared at him a long moment. "Recovering."

A glimmer of relief touched his heart. Ella had believed Jennifer was someone worth saving and so he had to also. But he still had so many unanswered questions. Things Ella had promised to tell him when this was all over.

He stared at Sloan, knowing he'd never get an answer, but asking anyway. "I don't understand, what did he do?"

"You're a clever man, doctor, you will work it out."

"That's not good enough."

"Perhaps." Sloan looked away. "I will miss Brannon, she was a good operative."

Then he disappeared into the night. Bashir glanced up at the stars and knew the station beckoned. 

******

He took his mother's hand. "You will call me, when the time comes."

Amsha raised their clasped hands to her lips and kissed her sons fingers. "We have hope." She murmured and it wasn't a lie. Then she released him and turned to Ezri. "Take care of him," _he's all I have left_, she added silently. Julian shifted in embarrassment but if Ezri though the request outrageous she made no comment.

"I will."

His mother smiled as if she knew something they didn't. 

Bashir picked up their bags and smiled. "More space sickness."

Ezri rolled her eyes. "Please, don't remind me."

****

Epilogue: Evil Rising

The night stirred around him. An owl called in the distance. Travin stroked the fabric he held, feeling softness of the wool, the warmth, the wetness of the fresh blood.

Ella's blood.

He smiled as the doctor's cry of horror echoed in his head and the glorious slick sound of the knife as he drove it into her flesh.

He'd killed her. His first kill. It wasn't as sickening as he'd heard, and not as much fun. His affection for her had dulled the sensation, robbed him of the moment. One he always wanted to savour. But no matter, the deed was done. 

Sloan would be next.

And then, then he'd end the life of the doctor who'd defiled her.

And this time, he'd enjoy it.

****

To be continued…

© T S "NORHTHERN STAR" FENN

[Northernstar@ntlworld.com][1]

Comments appreciated. Thanks for reading.

   [1]: mailto:Northernstar@ntlworld.com



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